


The dark before dawn

by Mimmi_ger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Good Severus Snape, Happy Ending, M/M, Outing, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23055157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimmi_ger/pseuds/Mimmi_ger
Summary: It would feel like flying, Harry thought and looked into the abyss.The Astronomy tower was so high and the night so dark with the moon obscured by clouds that he couldn´t see the ground. There was only darkness and even this was blurred by his tears, spilling hot and endless down over his face.He had been ok with being different. It was nothing new to him, really. He´d always been the freak, the scrawny boy in ill-fitting hand-me-downs and then The Boy Who Lived, Gryffindor´s wonder boy with the legendary scar on his forehead, the hero of the wizarding world, prophesied to save them all or die trying.What did it matter that he was queer as well? Just a new nuance to his otherness. Nothing to be ashamed of. So he´d thought at least.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 47
Kudos: 693





	1. Chapter 1

It would feel like flying, Harry thought and looked into the abyss.

The Astronomy tower was so high and the night so dark, with the moon obscured by clouds, that he couldn´t see the ground. There was only darkness and even that was blurred by his tears, spilling hot and endless down over his face.

He had been ok with being different. It was nothing new to him, really. He´d always been the freak, the scrawny boy in ill-fitting hand-me-downs and then The Boy Who Lived, Gryffindor´s wonder boy with the legendary scar on his forehead, the hero of the wizarding world, prophesied to save them all or die trying.

What did it matter that he was queer as well? Just a new nuance to his otherness. Nothing to be ashamed of. So he´d thought at least.

The wind howled, blowing cold in his face. It was always windy here, so high up over the world, but it was worse from October on. The wind became icy and strong enough to blow you right over the parapet. 

It had been also up here on the very same tower that he´d realised why grieving for Cedric had felt so different back at the end of his fourth year. Funny, how he had almost laughed when he finally had realised why he´d felt so strange around the older boy. He’d hated that Cedric was dead, was dead because of him. But understanding his feelings had been liberating nonetheless. Sirius had picked up on his ambivalent mood -sometimes heartbroken sometimes exhilarated- so quick over the summer, Harry was perplexed Hermione never mentioned anything or questioned him like she usually did. But then it was lucky, because he would´ve never been able to open up to her, not then. Talking to Sirius, however, had been easy and Sirius had been understanding and gentle. He had patted Harry´s back, smiling, reassuring that there was no shame in his preference, that there never was shame in love.

 _‘Love whoever makes you happy, Harry. Because happiness is what is important and not what others think about you.’_ Sirius´ voice rung in his head.

Tears threatened to choke him once again. Sirius. He would know what to say now. He´d hug Harry to his chest, stroke his back. But he wasn´t here. He was dead. So many were dead because of Harry and Harry was all alone. He had never felt this alone. He had been used to it when he hadn´t known any other life as the one with the Dursleys. But since coming to Hogwarts there had been his friends and he never had to be alone anymore.

Harry closed his eyes. Why hadn´t he reacted differently?

_“Come on Harry.” Ron shoved him playfully. “You need a girlfriend.”_

_Harry scowled at Ron, willing him to shut up. He needed as much a girlfriend as he needed Dragon Pocks._

_“What’s wrong with you? Every time I talk about girls, you’re all grumpy and snappish. As if something’s wrong with girls.”_

_“Nothing wrong with girls,” Harry muttered. He looked at his housemates, many of them sitting in pairs, snogging or cuddling. How much he wanted something like that for himself. But that was the tragedy in being gay and being who he was. He couldn´t just walk up to the next bloke and ask him out, could he?_

_“Now Ron, leave him be, will you?” Hermione chimed in, gaze narrowed over her Herbology book. It seemed she had picked up on Harry´s secret in the end as she always did. No use in keeping secrets from Hermione, was there?_

_“I just don’t get why he doesn’t react to all those doe-eyed love exclamations. All the girls are interested in Harry but not a single one is good enough for him.” Ron scowled now too. “It’s almost as if you’re not interested at all,” he said to Harry but the dark expression faded into a grin and he nudged Harry in the side. “Secretly into men, aren’t you?” he chuckled. Harry choked. Ron´s face reddened when he saw Harry´s bright red cheeks. “Blimey mate, no joke? You’re a poof?” Ron all but shouted._

****

He could´ve denied it. He should have. But he hadn´t been ashamed of his feelings, he’d been merely embarrassed that Ron had outed him when every Gryffindor and then some were in the common room. Oh, if he´d just laughed it off and maybe asked Ginny out or Luna or Hermione even, someone really, any girl to prove Ron wrong. But he hadn´t, because ‘being queer is no shame, Harry’. Sirius had said it with such conviction, had assured Harry so thoroughly, Harry had believed it himself, had never thought homosexuality would be an issue, a problematic one. Oh had he been wrong and since then he was alone. Not only alone but isolated. No one wanted to sit next to him, no one wanted to talk to him and no one listened to him. Not even Hermione who was so busy snogging Ron nowadays. Ron who couldn´t look in Harry´s eyes anymore. They were his best friends and even they turned away from him. Leaving him utterly alone. Seamus and some others had ambushed him before curfew one day, taking ‘revenge’ for him being a pervert all those years while they´d shared a dormitory, for all those times he´d seen them shower. The bruises had been well hidden underneath his clothes for days. No one had known. And anyway no one would´ve cared. The rest of the school was either gossiping viciously about him or spitting in his face or calling him names.

Was it a wonder he desperately wished for a fellow soul? Was it a wonder he couldn´t control his breathing when someone had sent him a letter, begging him to meet him, because he was in the same situation, knew what it was like to fancy the same gender and that he kept it a secret as Harry did before he had been outed. It was like a beacon in his heart. He was not alone. There was someone just like him. How much he longed for someone to be his, to embrace him, to love him. Someone who could not only understand Harry but who would willingly come closer. Someone who finally gave him closeness, closeness beyond a pat on the back or a brief hug like friends share.

Of course he´d gone, nervous like a first year student before the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. And then it had been only a joke. Malfoy had waited for him with his goons. They´d held him down while Malfoy had kicked him and spat in his face, calling him ‘Freak’ and ‘Bloody poof’. He´d been sneering when Goyle had prised his jaw open with raw violence so Malfoy could fuck his mouth with a thick candle, almost choking him with it. They´d left him slumped on the floor, bruised and humiliated. Harry had heard their laughter even after they´d been long gone. The pain in his jaw and his ribs had been nothing to the pain in his heart. He´d wanted to be strong. So many bad times had come and gone and he´d overcome all of them. But he couldn´t bear any more.

The Astronomy tower had been vacated when he´d dashed up the stairs and had burst into uncontrollable sobs.

Harry took a deep breath. He peered down again. Yes. It would be like flying. He´d always loved flying, loved it from the very first moment he´d mounted a broom and felt the wind on his face and in his hair.

He hadn´t planned to jump when he’d come here, but now he couldn’t think of anything else. He would finally be free. Free of the burden of the Prophecy, free of the responsibility to save the Wizarding world from evil, free from all those people who hated him for what he was.

His hands gripped the parapet and he pulled himself up on it before he had decided that now was the moment to fly, to escape and never come back, not alive.

“Mister Potter, what in Merlin’s name…” Snape broke off, realising what it was he had caught Harry doing. Harry startled and almost lost his footing. Grabbing for hold, he turned to Snape. The man´s eyes were wide and he looked so shocked Harry frowned, wondering if the light played tricks with his eyes or if the foreign emotion really was on Snape’s face. If so, Snape being capable of something else than loathing and pettiness, was rather interesting. Any other day Harry would´ve found it probably confusing to learn something like that about Snape. Snape the eternal git. But it was too late for confusion or wondering that even Snape was only human. He had enough of being a pawn, a freak, an outsider. His gaze returned once again to the darkness below him. He didn’t have to see where he’d land. All that mattered was that it was far enough away it would kill him.

Death.

Harry wanted nothing else. No more fame for something he would wish to no one. No exuberant expectations resting on him. No more loneliness. He would be with Sirius again, with his parents. Death sounded so much nicer than everything he would leave behind.

“Come down there.” Snape’s voice intruded his thoughts and Harry twisted around, frustrated with himself that he was doing so just again. But there was something in the man’s voice, a certain timbre Harry had not heard before. Could it be fear? Snape didn’t look like it at least. His expression was still slightly worried but otherwise mostly blank.

Harry laughed. “Why? To drag me back inside? Take points? Give me detention?” He laughed again and even to his own ears it sounded hysterical. He grabbed the cold stone harder and swung one leg over the top of the parapet, sitting astride.

“Potter,” Snape gasped but managed to make it sound like an order. He took a step closer, hand lifted in front of him.

“Don’t come closer,” Harry warned. He leaned forward. His chest was pressed against the stone. It really was cold. Cold and wet, chilling him right to the bones. He shifted his weight so he could swing his other leg past the safety of the platform. There was a small ledge below, he’d seen it when he´d checked the height. Once he was there, he turned. Now he just had to stretch his arms, close his eyes and fly. “There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.” Harry gazed back, deliberately meeting Snape’s eyes, so certain to see a sneer or loathing. There was neither. Snape shook his head, very, very slowly.

“Don’t. Harry. Please, don’t,” he pleaded. His voice was so soft, Harry might not have heard it at all had not the wind carried it towards him.

Harry was so surprised about the sudden change in Snape’s demeanour, his tone and expression that he tried to face the man, twisting around for a better look. His fingers slipped over the slick stone and the ledge was too small to find proper purchase. For a second he flailed with his arms and then realisation hit him. That was it. He’d fall now. He hadn’t planned it like this but it was just as well. It made no difference in the end. Harry closed his eyes. He smiled.

Strong hands grasped him and pulled him back, back to the wall and then over it and onto the platform.

“NO!” Harry wailed and struggled against Snape holding him. “You can’t! Let me go! Let me go!”

“Harry…Harry!” Snape shouted and shook him so hard his teeth clinked against each other.

Harry whimpered but stopped struggling. With wide eyes he stared at Snape. “Let me die,” he whispered.

“No.”

‘No’ it echoed in Harry’s ears and it was worse than a slap. He folded in on himself, his knees giving out under him. But he never met the chill stone floor. He landed in warm arms, holding him tight against a hard chest. Warm hands rubbed over his back.

“I have you,” Snape murmured right into his ear. “I have you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Harry woke up in the dark. He had no idea where he was but it was not his dormitory. He tried to see something, anything really, but it was so dark he couldn’t even see his hand right in front of his eyes, though he knew he was holding it there. Blindly, he felt around. He was in a bed. It was wide, wider than his bed in Gryffindor tower and there were no curtains around it either. Carefully Harry crawled to the edge of the mattress and lowered his feet to the floor. It was freezing and he quickly pulled them up on the bed again. Where the heck was he and why was he here and…Oh…Right. The Astronomy tower. Snape had been there. Snape had pleaded with him not to jump and then, then he’d pulled him back and into his arms.

Even though it was dark around him, Harry closed his eyes, feeling the ghost of Snape’s embrace and smelling his scent, herbal and fresh and somehow sweet. Why he ever had imagined the Potions Master would smell like rotten eggs and pungent potions ingredients was beyond him now. Now that he knew better. He had felt save, there in Snape´s arms.

‘Snape’, Harry thought and couldn’t contain the displeased sigh. Why the hell had he pulled him back and had been so…so un-Snapeish? He had saved his life. But Harry hadn´t wanted him to, he still didn’t. He didn´t want saving, he wanted death. Death and forgetting.

Determined, he placed his feet back on the floor. He winced when he put his weight on them and took a step, feeling his way slowly to the wall and from there around the room. There had to be a door somewhere.

A sudden thought made him stop and slap his forehead in self-deprecation. He was a wizard, wasn’t he? He had a wand…Though, it was definitely not in his back pocket. Maybe on the bed then? Or on a nightstand beside it? Harry gritted his teeth and returned the way he had come. Back at the bed he felt around. There was nothing on the mattress and nothing on the nightstand left of the bed. He crawled over the mattress and found a second nightstand and there, right in the middle, was his wand. Harry sighed with a sudden bout of relief. He straightened, stepped out of the bed, now on the right side and ignited the tip of his wand with a whispered ‘Lumos’.

His scream echoed loud in the room, he really couldn´t help it. He jumped back and lost his balance, falling back on the bed. His heart beat wildly in his chest. It was a small wonder he hadn’t flung his wand from him. But he held it still in his hand and pointed it back to the right side of the bed. There on a chair sat Snape with his eyes open as if he were perfectly capable of seeing in the pitch-black darkness of the room. Though, who knew, maybe he did have night sight with living in those wretched dungeons or he had a potion for it. Would explain his sneaking around in the shadows as well. 

Harry said not a word, unable to find anything remotely fitting for the situation, and only stared distrustful at the man in front of him. At long last Snape moved. He blinked slowly and then leaned forward.

“This evening I came about Mister Malfoy and his friends. It was already past curfew and they were in an exuberant mood. Before I stopped them, I couldn´t help but hear enough as to conclude that their joyful behaviour had something if not all to do with you.” Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. “Tell me, Mister Potter, what could possibly result in Mister Malfoy´s cheerfulness that drives you up the Astronomy tower, ready to fling yourself to certain death?”

Harry snorted. He pulled himself up and off the bed once again. As if Malfoy alone could prompt Harry to jump from the bloody tower. And as if Snape would care for the reason. He would never, would he?

Harry glanced at the man, sitting still as a statue in his chair. He had cared, at least enough to be honestly shocked about finding Harry on top of the Astronomy tower. Harry shook his head, declining his thoughts the direction they had sought. He would not think again of Snape´s arms wrapped around him and the soft-spoken plea, of the man´s smell.

Harry turned his head away. With the light of his wand he could now see that he wasn’t in a windowless dungeon cell but in a bedroom, though in the dungeons nevertheless. There was a window, however, draped with a heavy, black curtain which was then probably why it was so dark, this and because it still was night. At each side of the bed was a nightstand with a little lamp and in front of the left stood his shoes, neatly put side by side. Harry slipped inside. His feet would probably never get warm again. On his first walk along the wall he’d not come as far as the wardrobe but he was sure he´d been almost there before he´d decided to find his wand. From the wardrobe it was only a metre to the fireplace which was dark and cold. The other side of the room was currently occupied by Snape in his chair but behind him there was the door and the door was Harry’s destination. He walked towards it but before he could do as much as lift his hand to the handle, he heard the locking spell.

“What are you doing?” Harry snapped. He stared at Snape with murder screaming from his eyes.

“You will go nowhere until you answered my question,” Snape said, sounding short of assigning detention.

Harry snorted. Yeah, detention sounded just like Snape. ‘Detention, Potter, for troubling me with saving your worthless life once again. Oh and one million points from Gryffindor.’

“Answer me.” Snape glowered at him.

“I didn´t even meet Malfoy,” Harry replied evasively.

“Don’t take me for a fool, you ungrateful whelp,” Snape snarled. “Look at me.”

Harry gritted his teeth.

“I said. Look. At. Me.” Snape stood so quick Harry only realised it when the man’s fingers dug into his chin and tilted his head back. The moment their eyes met, Harry heard the whispered spell.

“No…” he gasped, but Snape was already in his mind.

They flew through memories of his miserable childhood, starved, mocked, locked up in a tiny cupboard, unwanted but most of all unloved. Snape perused his mind, sifted through memories as if it were a picture book. He saw everything, the unplanned coming out, the mobbing, a conversation with Dumbledore about Harry´s role in the war against Voldemort, Harry´s loneliness.

Harry tried to struggle against Snape but he couldn´t, he had never managed to shake off the man.

Harry saw once again Sirius’ fall through the vail, eyes widened in silent surprise. And then there was what Snape was looking for, this evening, Malfoy and his dim-witted goons waiting for him. The smirk on Malfoys face and eventually the nasty sneer when he pushed the candle all the way in Harry´s mouth, mock-moaning as if Harry would suck his cock.

Harry staggered, suddenly released from Snape’s spell. Only the wall behind him hindered his fall. He bumped his anyway bruised ribs and yelped with the new rush of sharp pain. He´d all but forgotten about his bruises. Tears blurred his vision. He couldn´t focus but that was all right, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to look up either. He wanted to curl into a ball and freeze on this damned stone floor, right here in the dungeons. Snape had had no right to see those memories, to force himself on Harry like that.

“Harry,” Snape sighed, surprising the young man just again with how gentle his voice could be. “When I let you leave now, will you try it again?”

Harry rolled his shoulders back, straightening and looked Snape dead in the eye. “That´s none of your bloody business.”

Snape returned Harry’s stare for a long moment, expression once again unreadable. When he stepped closer his look was weary. “You can stop pretending now.”

“Pretending?” Harry asked. He had wanted to scoff but was too confused.

“You are hurt. I saw enough to…”

“Of course you saw enough!” Harry snapped. “You broke into my mind without permission.” He wrapped his arms around himself and tried to stave off the shivering that shook him like leaves in the wind.

Snape heaved a mighty sigh before he opened the door with a flick of his wand. He was faster than Harry, who stood further away, and was out of the room before Harry had even the chance to take one step. He followed Snape anyway. Merlin be damned if he´d stay a single moment longer in this freezing hell-hole. He snorted about the oxymoron but stopped, steps faltering, when he stepped out of the room he´d woken up in. It was the first time his brain caught up with the fact that he had been in a bedroom, as in a room where someone sleeps, in the dungeons, where Snape lives. He couldn´t supress the small ‘Oh’ that escaped him when he looked around, amazed.

The room was warmed by a welcoming fire and brightened by a soft light that seemed to come from nowhere in particular and everywhere at once. There were heavy rugs on the floor in grey and, surprisingly, dark red. A comfy looking leather sofa stood in front of the hearth. The walls were lined with bookshelves and in one corner was a desk, heavily loaded with parchments, but not the least bit chaotic. Everything was neatly stacked and lined up. There were three doors sans the one Harry stood in front of. Harry guessed that one door led into a bathroom and one of the other two had to be the entry door, bringing him right into the dungeons.

Harry bit his bottom lip, frowning. Snape had brought him into his private quarters and had let him sleep in his bed. An urgent question popped into his mind.

“Why was I sleeping?” he blurted, momentarily forgetting his anger.

Snape turned around from a cabinet behind his desk. He arched one eyebrow at Harry.

“You were exhausted.” Hearing Snape talk to him so sincere and calm, without his usual sneer and insults, was strange in the most disarming way. Though, the whole situation was strange and Harry couldn’t find any of his long harboured loathing at the moment, there was only confusion. He couldn´t even snap at the man.

“I fell asleep in your,” lap, his mind substituted but Harry settled for, “arms?” He felt his cheeks colour anyway and looked away from the man. He couldn´t understand how that could have happened. He hated Snape and Snape hated Harry. So simple, so true.

“Eventually,” Snape nodded with the ghost of a smirk. Harry stared at him. He remembered clearly sitting with Snape on the floor. The wind had been so cold but Snape so warm and so…gentle. Harry had had forgotten then that it was Snape, holding him, just savouring the warmth and the feeling it gave him. And just like that he´d fallen asleep? It must be true because he had no memory of Snape carrying him here...all the way to the dungeons. “I assume you have been not sleeping too much or very well lately.” Snape lifted his eyebrow questioningly and Harry nodded, still befuddled. He stared at Snape, unable to reconcile his knowledge of the man and his hate for Harry with his actions of the night.

"Drink," Snape interrupted his thoughts once again and held out a vial of calming draught. Harry blinked at it but didn’t move to take it. Actually, he did nothing not even reject the offered potion. He felt completely stumped. He jerked when Snape took his hand, pressing the vial into his palm and closing his fingers around it when Harry was slow to grip it. 

“Why did you do that?”

“Because I want you to drink it.” Snape looked almost amused. His hand fell back to his side.

“Wha…No,” Harry shook his head. “Earlier. Why did you do that? You were there, you held me, you…” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious.

"Harry," Snape sighed. His name spoken so softly by Snape made Harry shiver. He’d never called him Harry before, not once and now he did it all the time, gone was the derisive ‘Mister Potter’ or just ‘Potter’, spat out like a curse. It only made everything even more unreal, surreal. Maybe he’d wake up and realise it all had only been a dream, a long and horrible dream. That must be it, any moment now he’d wake up in his bed in the dormitory to the snores of his housemates.

"As one of your teachers I am responsible for you,” Snape said and when Harry only gaped at him went on, “The protocol provides that I have to bring you to the Hospital Wing and inform your Head of House and the Headmaster about your suicide attempt.”

“No,” Harry gasped before Snape could say any more. His hands shot forward and the vial fell to the ground, bursting at his feet, as he clutched at Snape´s robes, fisting the black fabric into his hand. No one could know. It was bad enough already without the teachers being aware. He wouldn’t be able to stand their pitying gazes or the attempts to keep an eye on him. The taunting of his classmates would only increase.

“Harry, breathe.” Snape said. His hands came up and framed Harry´s face, holding it. “Listen, I won’t report you. That is why I brought you here. But I can’t let you leave either, not as long as I can’t be sure you won’t again attempt to kill yourself.”

Harry took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He couldn’t stand keeping eye contact. Snape knew already too much about him and about what had happened; he couldn’t let him see his confusion. There was nothing but confusion inside him. Confusion about Snape mostly. The man who had found him was not the man Harry’d spent hating those last five years. Snape´s hands slid to Harry´s shoulders, allowing him to bow his head and hide. They stood so close, however, that his forehead touched Snape’s chest. The small contact made Harry shudder and it wouldn’t pass. Before long Harry was shaking for real, unable to stop. Snape’s hands moved. One slid to the back of his head, the other clasped his shoulder, pulling him close. Harry felt a sob tremble up his throat, coming from deep in his chest.

“Harry,” Snape said, soothingly. Harry felt him inhale and then his breath ruffled through his hair. When his hand began stroking over Harry’s back, his shaking got even worse. It was the second time this evening that Snape held him. There had never been much physical contact in Harry’s life with the Dursleys nor between Harry and his friends, a friendly pat or brief hug at most. Sirius had hugged him sometimes, but never like this and Harry couldn’t hold himself together anymore. Tears burned hot in his eyes and spilled over his cheeks, soaking Snape’s chest. He couldn’t bear losing this contact. He clutched with a desperation at the man he had not known he possessed. He was so afraid Snape would let go of him, but Snape didn’t pull away, disgusted or otherwise, his arms tightened around Harry and he held him in a firm embrace until Harry´s tears had dried and his sobs had died down to low sniffling. He became gradually calmer and then stilled completely, revelling in the offered closeness. It was devastating as well, maddeningly so, that Snape’s presence had such an effect on Harry, but it seemed he couldn’t get enough of it and Snape seemed not to mind, not for another moment.

“What am I to do with you?" Snape asked, soft and genuine, into Harry’s hair and then pushed him away. His hands on Harry’s shoulders, he looked at him, Harry could feel it even though he didn’t meet this gaze. Embarrassment coloured his cheeks crimson.

“I won’t try again,” Harry whispered hoarsely, eyes glued to the row of buttons in front of him.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then report me, tell everyone that I’m even more of a freak than they thought,” Harry snarled and tore himself free, whirling around and away from Snape. Of course he wouldn´t believe him. It was Snape. Snape never believed a single word from Harry. Snape hated Harry.

“You are no freak,” Snape’s voice was hard. "And as much as it pains me to admit it, Black was right. There is no reason to be ashamed of your preferences. Even though your peers try very hard to make you believe otherwise."

Harry’s gaze snapped up to look at Snape. The man was unpredictable, one moment gentle the next snapping at Harry, but at least he was honest. Harry shook his head. "I´m not ashamed.”

“Then why jump off the Astronomy tower?” Snape asked.

He´d barely finished his sentence when Harry shouted, “Because I´m alone! I´m all alone. Everyone I love leaves me one way or another. And no one cares what I feel as long as I get rid of bloody Voldemort for them. Everyone hates my guts unless I become a murderer, then I´m their fucking hero.”

Snape said nothing about that. He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed while he took a deep breath. “You’re staying here tonight,” he said then firmly.

“No. You can´t make me!”

“Harry Potter!” Snape barked. “Don´t try my patience!” He glowered at Harry but bridged the distance between them and pushed Harry all the way back into the bedroom. Harry was too taken aback to talk back yet again and let Snape shove him around.

“Get under the blanket, I´m right back.” With that Snape left the room. Harry heard him rummaging through the cabinet behind his desk, glass clinked against glass and then steps approached. “Did I mumble?” Snape arched his eyebrow at Harry who still stood where Snape had left him.

“No. But I can’t…I…”

“Yes, Mister Potter? What? Will you be missed? I was under the impression your friends don’t mind terribly much about your whereabouts these days.” That was more like the normal Snape but it cut Harry even more to be treated like this after he´d admitted already how lonely he was. Astonishingly, Snape seemed to feel likewise. He took another deep breath, his expression softened.

“Drink this and then lie down,” he said and placed a new vial of a calming draught on the right bedside table. “Should you need something I´m next door.”

Snape didn´t close the door when he left. A small ray of light fell directly on the bed. Harry hesitated. He couldn´t sleep in Snape´s bed, again, could he? The first time around it hadn´t been his decision, Snape had brought him here but now he had to actively crawl into it. Besides where would Snape sleep? He wouldn´t join Harry, right? Oh gods, he wouldn´t do that, would he? Harry bit his lip, gazing at the gap between door and frame.

“Harry, now,” Snape called.

Bastard, Harry thought more out of reflex than with any venom. But he pulled his feet from his shoes and after a brief consideration pulled his trousers down too, leaving them pooling on the floor. The sheets were cold when he slid into the bed.

The calming draught tasted surprisingly good, for Snape standard anyway. It was herbal and mild, only slightly bitter after swallowing.

Harry took a deep breath and then fell back into the pillow, a whiff of scent -somehow Harry thought of Earl Grey tea- enclosed him. He closed his eyes, trying to relax. But how should he relax, here in Snape´s bed? Snape´s bed, for god´s sake. Only yesterday the man had still snarled at him and taken house points for incompetent ingredient preparation and now he allowed Harry to spend the night in his bed. The world had truly gone crazy. Harry sniffed and then pressed his face into the pillow. Lemon and black tea. Snape smelled so good, the whole aggravating man, and it calmed Harry, so much more than he wanted to admit. He pulled the blanket tighter around his body, imagining it would be Snape´s arms, holding him again. 


	3. Chapter 3

Harry opened his eyes and sat up with a start. Where the hell…oh, yeah, once again. He released a nervous chuckle when he realised that he really had spent the night in Snape´s quarters, in Snape´s bed to top it all. But he was alone and it seemed he´d been so the whole night. Which was, well, relieving.

The room was still as cold as it had been before. But now it was brighter, light fought its way through the thick, black curtains. Padding over, Harry pulled them back and frowned. There was a window, all right, but there was nothing to see. The glass was milky white and seemed to emit the light itself. As nice as it was to have charmed windows and at least a likeness of daylight, Harry very much preferred real windows and the view they allowed, especially from Gryffindor tower.

Shivering, Harry hurried to dress and then left the bedroom, cautiously peeking around the doorframe into the living room. Snape sat on the sofa, legs crossed and reading, one hand held a cup on top of the backrest. Harry couldn´t look away. He´d never seen Snape in less than his complete teaching regalia. Layers and layers of black fabric usually covered the man and seeing him now only in a white shirt and black trousers made him look virtually naked, smaller and less imposing. His eyes flickered from side to side while he pursed his lips ever so softly. It was the most unguarded Harry had ever seen Snape.

“Are you quite done ogling me?” Harry jerked. He had thought Snape hadn´t noticed him yet. But now he lifted his gaze from his reading and regarded Harry critically before he nodded, seemingly approving of what he was seeing. “Come, breakfast is waiting.” He beckoned Harry closer with a wave of his hand.

Only now Harry realised how hungry he was and he dived for the sofa, cramming sandwiches into his mouth, hardly chewing at all, until he only had the choice of either stopping or being sick. Snape watched him all the time with raised eyebrows, the corners of his mouth quivering with barely veiled amusement. When Harry leant back into the sofa, momentarily tired from eating, Snape filled a cup and offered him the steaming tea with a soft nudge of his hand.

“How do you feel?”

Harry peered at Snape, accepting the tea, and bolted upright from his slouching position. He spilled tea all over his legs which Snape commented with an exasperated sigh, vanishing the mess with a flick of his wand. Harry kept staring at Snape, certain he was about to hear a derisive comment about his inability to even drink tea, but Snape only shifted on his side of the sofa and seemed to wait.

“Cat got your tongue?” he inquired eventually. “Well then. You look better than yesterday, so I assume a whole night´s sleep has been dearly required.” He gave Harry another assessing once over look. “I thought about what to do about you, as I can´t let you stay in my bed forever or keep a constant eye on you. You will therefore report to me four times a day so I can make sure you´re well. Should you miss just one report, appropriate measurements will be set in motion which will include informing the staff of your suicide attempt.” Harry gasped but Snape wasn´t finished yet. “This is no punishment, Harry, even though you might think that. There is little I can do to keep you from harming yourself, the best I can do is offer you a safe haven.” At this Harry choked on his tea.

“Safe haven?” he rasped not entirely sure how to interpret Snape´s words.

“You will come to me before breakfast, before lunch, before dinner and right before curfew. I will be able to verify that you´re still alive and you will have the opportunity to tell me should something trouble you, no matter how small it might be.”

Harry lowered his gaze to his hands, which lay knotted in his lap. “I don´t get why you´re doing this. Why you care what happens to me. You of all people,” he said lowly.

“Look at me.”

Harry turned his head away a little. The last time Snape had wanted him to look at him he´d broken into his mind, sniffing about his memories without permission.

“Harry, please, look at me.” Snape´s voice was so gentle that Harry felt silly for not following his request. He turned to look, but was careful not to meet the man´s eyes directly at least until Snape gently took his chin between thumb and index finger, tilting his head up. The look in Snape´s eyes was nothing Harry had seen in them before. It startled him, moved something in him. It was confusing. “I know how you feel and I was where you are now. I wished more than anything else for someone to catch me, to make me see that it would get better. I had no one.”

“You…” Harry shook his head. What was it Snape wanted tell him?

“I prefer men,” Snape said simply. “My outing had been quieter than yours. Not many knew about it. But your father and his friends found out and they made sure I´d be thoroughly sorry for being a deviant. So much I wanted to die.” Mentioning Harry´s dad, Snape´s expression turned bitter.

They looked at each other, Snape still holding Harry´s chin. They were both silent.

“I´m sorry,” Harry said eventually, more a whisper. Snape´s hand fell away from his face, leaving Harry feeling strangely disappointed.

“I don´t expect you to trust me with your most secret thoughts from now on just because I told you about me. I am aware our past is not the ideal basis for what I try to offer you, but I hope you believe that I am serious.”

“I do.”

“Good. Then you should go now. I need to see your classmates.”

Harry went rigid. Snape saw it and added, “It is a school day, Harry. We both missed all of our classes before lunch, but you´re awake now so I can go to my afternoon lectures.”

“It´s that late?”

“It is, but Headmaster Dumbledore offered to substitute for me for today.”

Harry blanched and jumped up, stumbling away from Snape. “You said…you promised…no one…but you…” he stuttered, hugging himself.

“Harry,” Snape approached him, but Harry shied away. He backed away until his back hit a bookshelf, stopping his retreat and Snape was right there, clasping his shoulder, fingers digging into them. “I did not tell him. Not about your suicide attempt.”

Harry wailed, unable to put his emotions into words, but again Snape was there, pulling him against his chest, his arms coming around Harry.

“The Headmaster is aware of most things happening in these walls. I didn´t have to tell him about your secret, I merely kept last night´s events to myself.”

“He knows?” Harry asked, muffled by Snape´s chest. Harry´s ear was pressed against it, he heard the man´s heartbeat, slow and steady, and Harry breathed easier after a moment.

“He knows,” Snape confirmed. “I told him you´d have a hard time and that I would offer you advice should you want any. He´s of course aware of my own past and agreed that I can help you best.”

“And he´s all right with you having me sleep in your bed?”

“I have not asked him nor saw I any need to inform him afterwards. Should he suspect, well…Not that anything inappropriate did happen.” Snape´s voice sounded so light, so unlike the man, that Harry looked up, not stepping away, though. Snape returned his gaze, completely free from contempt. He´d never looked so calm at Harry, so serious. Harry bowed his head, resting his forehead against Snape´s chest and, though hesitantly and burning with embarrassment, brought his own arms around the man´s slender waist.

“I am so confused,” he admitted to Snape´s shirt.

Snape´s breath tickled over his head when he breathed a soft chuckle. It was a nice sound, warm and so unfamiliar. Harry resolved he wanted to hear it again, often.

“I am honestly surprised how little you struggle. You have not once insulted me.”

“You want me to?” Harry was glad Snape couldn´t see his face, he would probably not approve of the grin he would find there.

“No,” he said, then, “Ready to go?”

Harry wasn´t, but admitting how much he liked, how much he longed for, Snape´s touch, felt utterly wrong. They´d come within 24 hours from despising each other to almost cuddling. That was a lot to wrap his head around. Still he knew his face showed how reluctant he was of letting go when he stepped away.

“I must be going. You are free to join me, but you don’t have to. You´re excused for the whole day.”

Harry contemplated it. Would he want to sit in Snape´s class, surrounded by his classmates? How much would they read on his face? Would they see any difference or would Snape be his old, loathsome self towards Harry? He could stand none of this.

“I think, I don´t…”

“In this case I´ll see you before dinner.”

Harry watched him slip in his waistcoat and button the long row of black buttons of his frockcoat before he pulled the long, billowy robes around his shoulders. Before long the transformation was completed, Professor Severus Snape straightened and squared his shoulders.

“Come on, Potter, no time for dawdling.” 

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, for once meaning the respectful address. Snape arched one eyebrow but looked pleased and held the door open for Harry.


	4. Chapter 4

Severus watched Harry entering his office. The young man looked tired, dark bruises shadowed his eyes.

“Good morning, sir,” Harry said and shuffled closer, halting a few steps from Severus´ desk.

“Good morning, Harry,” he replied evenly, noting with no small amount of wonder how Harry´s eyes snapped up to meet his. He still was not used to be called by his first name, not by his Potions Professor anyway. Severus, though, had to admit that he liked it. Potter had always been the father and for once he set the two apart, father and son, who were so similar but also so unlike each other. “You did not sleep.”

“I…” Harry´s gaze lowered to the floor.

Severus shook his head. He rounded his desk and stepped up to Harry, lifting his face until their eyes met.

“Do you even return to your dorm room?”

There was the clear flicker of attempted lie in Harry´s gaze before he capitulated. “No, sir. I stay in the common room.”

“And there you don´t sleep,” Severus concluded, frowning. “I can´t recall seeing you during meals either.” Harry´s shoulders sagged in silent confirmation. “Harry, you need to eat and you need to sleep.”

“You can´t make me.”

“No?” Severus asked, answering the challenge in Harry´s voice with his own. The foolish boy would rather starve himself than spend more time than he thought necessary with his classmates, so much was obvious. But there was nothing that could be done about the other students. “You will attend meals, understood?”

Harry gazed away and Severus grasped his chin tighter, jerking it so Harry faced him again.

“As you are to meet me before every meal we will go together. You won´t be alone. I will always be there with you and able to step in should anything happen. For your sleep…” he exhaled heavily, thinking. “You will need to be watched because the Dark Lord´s connection with you strengthened which leaves you too vulnerable. I will organise for you to have a room set up near my own.”

Harry´s eyes widened, their green was unbelievable bright even in the dim light of the dungeons, tears glistened in them, ready to fall.

“Stupid boy,” Severus muttered and opened his arms. It was amazing how Harry instantly fell into them, burying his face in Severus´ chest. No one, who had no idea about their past, would guess that there had been a strong animosity between the two of them no less than three days ago. Severus himself was astonished how easy it came to him to overlook the past and comfort the boy who clearly was starved for affection. The few glimpses he´d snatched from the boy’s upbringing had never shown any kind of caring, not to speak of love. Would life be fair Harry would be happy now, in love and be loved in return. But life was not fair, few knew better than Severus did.

“Come now,” Severus said, squeezing Harry once tight. “It´s time for breakfast.”

***

Severus watched Harry from the Head Table. He sat separated from everyone, hiding behind his fringe while he picked at his food. Two of the few not hostile or mocking glares directed at him came from Granger and Weasley, but they made no move to join their friend. Former friend one had to say. Severus frowned. He´d thought their friendship stronger. They´d been inseparable from the time they´d started at Hogwarts and now something irrelevant as Harry´s sexual preferences caused them to fall out with each other? He had, at least from Granger, expected more sympathy.

A soft, wet thud called for his attention. Egg yolk dripped from Harry´s hair. The lower part of the Gryffindor table erupted in snickers. Children. Cruel little monsters all of them. Another egg sailed through the air, hitting Harry´s back. Even from his seat at the High Table, Severus could see the tears in Harry´s eyes when he gazed in his direction. Severus shook his head barely perceptible and glanced at the doors, tilting his head this way as well. Harry seemed to understand the silent message and got up. He squared his shoulders and headed for the door. He´d almost made it out when a group of Hufflepuffs entered. Severus realised what would happen before Harry had and he stood up, stalking down the aisle just when Ernie McMillan stuck his foot out and Justin Finch-Fletchley shoved Harry over it.

“Mister Potter,” Severus growled when he reached Harry, sprawled on the floor. “Twenty points from Gryffindor. Get up,” he demanded icily, not looking at the snickering Hufflepuffs. Harry rose slowly to his feet, so slowly that Severus gripped his arm and hauled him up, not letting go when he marched him off and straight into his office. By the time the door was closed behind them Harry sniffed pitiful and wiped his eyes.

“Ignorant twits,” Severus muttered and cleaned the mess of egg from Harry. Only then his near murderous expression softened. “Harry, you did well.”

“Is that why you took points from me?” Harry snapped. Tears clung to his eyelashes but he shot Severus a nasty glare.

“You do understand that I took points from Gryffindor, for the eggs? And, let me see, I guess twenty points from Hufflepuff for assaulting another student will suffice.” 

“So you only helped me get away?” Harry asked meekly.

“Oh Harry,” Severus sighed. “I told you I would. Do have a little faith.”

“Oh. All right.” Harry nodded. He looked lost and puffy from weeping. Severus brushed the last tears from Harry´s face, straightening his robes. Giving in to the sad eyes directed at him, he then tugged Harry into his arms, briefly, only long enough that he could squeeze him firmly. Harry exhaled in a soft sigh which sounded strangely content as he relaxed immediately.

***

A small knock sounded at the door. Severus glanced at the clock. It was twenty minutes past curfew, Harry was late, very much so. Severus stood and opened, revealing Harry standing on the other side, stubbing his foot against the floor. Severus gave him a meaningful look and stepped aside, letting him in.

Harry shuffled through the room, halting in hesitation beside the sofa, glancing back at Severus.

“Please,” Severus said, gesturing at the furniture but sat down first. Harry only joined him when Severus patted the place next to him, nodding at Harry. “You are late.” He had meant to let it slide, but everything about Harry´s behaviour indicated there was a reason for it besides simple tardiness.

“Malfoy was in the corridor. I couldn´t leave my room.”

Severus frowned at that. Of course the students knew Harry slept not in the Gryffindor dormitory anymore. That was something they hardly could keep under lock and key, but he had hoped they´d been discreet enough when they found a new residence for Harry. Dumbledore had agreed without considering it, giving him, Severus, free rein to decide what would be best for Harry at the moment. “Couldn´t?”

“I…He must have known I would hear him. He talked about…about candles and that they come in different sizes for different…purposes,” Harry explained in a whisper, not meeting Severus´ eyes. “You won´t do anything, will you?” Harry added with a hue of panic, grabbing, unexpected, Severus´ hand.

“I don´t know what I should do about it. Mister Malfoy is free to talk about candles as much as he desires and wherever he sees fit to it.” Of course they both knew Draco had not at all simply talked about candles, but sending for the young man to question him about it would definitely not improve Harry´s situation. “Mister Malfoy aside, how are you?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. This was nothing new. He came to Severus as he was ordered to but he said never much until he reached a certain point of breakdown whereupon Severus embraced him before sending him on his way. It seemed it was all Harry asked for and why he was obeying the order. He didn´t want to talk he wanted to be held, even if it was Severus Snape doing the job.

“You look less tired.”

“It´s quiet in my room.”

“Do you still want to die?” Severus asked it softly with bated breath, who knew how Harry would react to being asked so directly. But he wouldn´t have to worry as Harry merely shrugged again.

“Not so much anymore.”

They fell silent. Harry drifted slowly closer, maybe without being aware of, but when Severus touched his shoulder, conveying an invitation, he immediately ducked his head and leant into Severus.

“Thank you, sir.”

Severus startled at Harry´s voice. “Whatever for?”

“You´re everything I have left. There is no one else I could go to and no one who understands me.”

Even for a man like Severus this admission was gut-wrenching. The sadness in Harry´s voice was infectious, filling him until he had to vent it with a deep sigh. He knew this loneliness and it pained him that anyone else had to experience it as well. He tightened his arm around Harry´s shoulder. Harry tried to twist closer, bringing as much of his body against Severus´ without crawling into his lap. Severus realised he wouldn´t mind that. It was a disturbing thought. Not because it was sexual in any way, but because he wanted to hold Harry as close as possible. He sneered about his own sentimentality and about the fact that he seemingly had forgotten that the sentiment was directed at Harry Potter, the bane of his existence. Only that he did no longer think about the young man as such. It was only Harry anymore, a young troubled man who needed his help, help he was more than willing to give.

Severus shifted until he could pull Harry between his parted legs, wrapping his arms again around him. They sat like this for a long time, in fact that long that Severus´ leg, which was jammed between the backrest of the sofa and Harry´s back, got numb.

“Harry?” he asked and then asked again, softly shaking Harry when he got no response.

Harry moved then, gazing sheepishly up. He seemed to have dozed off.

“Go to bed.”

Severus waited but Harry did not move away, instead he bit his lip, blushing adorably. Adorably. Severus huffed inwardly. How did it come he thought in terms of adorableness about Harry?

“I need to work.”

“Oh,” Harry said, voice small and – was that disappointment?

“Why? Did you think you could occupy my bed again?” Severus couldn´t help to tease. Surprisingly Harry´s blush intensified and he stammered helplessly but shifted away and stood, obviously ready to flee.

“No…I wouldn´t…I just feel…I mean when I´m here or with you, I mean…”

Severus grazed him with a concerned look, trying to filter through the stammered jumble of non-sentences. “Do you mean to tell me, you´d like to stay here?”

“Just on the sofa and only until you go to bed, then I´ll go. I´m quiet. You won´t notice I´m still here. Promise.”

Astounding. There was no other word for what was happening between them. Their relationship had performed a backflip, and was now heading the opposite direction. All within a week.

“Very well,” Severus conceded and retreated behind his desk, flopping into his chair with a rather ungraceful sigh. As much as he hated grading, he seemed unable to refrain from assigning huge amounts of essays to the student body.

Every now and then he looked up and towards the sofa. Harry did not much except sitting there and staring into the flames, obviously thinking.

***

After this first evening Harry turned up every evening close to curfew for his usual demonstration that he still was alive but afterwards he stayed while Severus started grading. After a few days Harry brought his school bag, doing his homework. He seemed calmer and more confident throughout the days. Severus thought it was a great improvement.

“Do you know the most important properties of chamomile?” Harry asked, interrupting Severus in the middle of scribbling an especially scathing comment on a fourth years´ essay. He gazed across the room, regarding Harry with furrowed brow until the young man looked up. His eyes widened and he blushed. “Oh, gods, I´m sorry, I didn´t think.”

It was so obvious that Harry had forgotten that he wasn´t sitting with his friends that Severus was not sure if he should feel flattered or worried.

“Chamomile,” he said anyway, “promotes sleep and can be used as treatment for insomnia. Furthermore it is an immunity booster, reduces inflammation, soothes stomach ache and has an overall relaxing effect.” While he recited, he´d stood up and leant now over the backrest, looking down at Harry´s notes. “Can I help you with any more of your homework?” He bit back a chuckle, but allowed his eyes to show his amusement when Harry´s head snapped around and he stared up at Severus.

“I didn´t mean to bother you.”

“It´s quite all right, Harry.” Severus patted Harry´s shoulder and then walked to the slender cabinet next to his bookshelves. When he returned to Harry, settling next to him on the sofa, he held a glass of wine, swirling the honey coloured liquid gently with a soft flick of his wrist. Harry lifted his nose, sniffing in interest. “Mead,” Severus said and took a sample, smiling to himself.

“I thought you´d be more of a Whiskey drinker.”

“Yes, sometimes.” Severus leant back into the backrest, gaze turned to the crease of ceiling and wall. He noticed how Harry mirrored his position and turned his head. He looked right into bright green eyes. “Yes?”

“Is it strange for you to have me here?”

“Is it strange for you?”

“Quite.” Harry pursed his lips, grinning. “And that is really crazy.”

“Considering our past?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded and looked away, gazing at the ceiling. “It´s almost as if we never hated each other. I mean, if someone had told me last year I´d spend time with you, completely voluntary, and even enjoy it…I´d have hexed him.”

“So you do enjoy it?” Severus glanced at Harry, not turning his head, but curious enough how his reaction would be that he couldn´t not look. Harry frowned and then swallowed. The lightness from only a second earlier disappeared into oppressing sadness. Severus sat up and leant closer to Harry, touching his arm.

“I feel so much better when I´m here, when…when you´re close or when we…” he mumbled and trailed off.

“When I hold you?” Severus asked softly. Harry nodded. “Would you like that now?” Harry nodded again, studiously avoiding Severus´ gaze. “You are allowed to ask for it, you know?” He pulled at Harry´s arm, chuckling softly when Harry immediately twisted around and hid his face against Severus´ shoulder. “To answer your question, yes. It is strange for me. But I have to admit that your presence is quite tolerable. You are much less of the insolent brat you were last year.”

Severus heard Harry´s grunted hmpf, but he didn´t move away, if at all he buried closer, his arms twining around Severus.

“I never had anything like this before,” Harry confessed, voice muffled against Severus´ shoulder.

“I know,” Severus whispered. He tightened his hold a fraction more. Harry´s hair tickled his face. And all of a sudden he was very aware how this young body was pressed up against his own. This young male body. He exhaled slowly. He would not think about it. He would absolutely not.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry knocked, grinning broadly even before the door had been torn open. Snape stared down at him with an irate glare.

“Are you by any chance in possession of a clock, Potter?” he growled but stepped dutifully aside to let Harry in.

“`M sorry?” Harry offered, still grinning. He´d woken up this morning and had felt as bouncy and cheery as he hadn´t in weeks. He´d to admit he hadn´t spared his alarm clock just a single glance before he´d jumped out of bed, had showered and dressed and headed to Snape´s quarters to check in with him like he´d done every day for the last four weeks.

Harry glanced at the clock over the mantelpiece of the fireplace which showed it was just half past five and then glanced back at Snape, noting only now that the man wore a grey pyjama and his hair stood sleep-ruffled around his head. He looked rather lovely like this, somehow less severe than during day, all buttoned up and lank-haired.

“Stop grinning like the fool you are and order coffee while I get dressed,” Snape said gruffly and stalked from the room. Harry didn´t mind. After spending a huge amount of his time in the company of the sour Potions Master he´d learned to differentiate between honest insults and simple, meaningless snark which Snape possessed obviously inexhaustible amounts of.

When Snape came back, partially dressed in his usual clothes, Harry pushed one of the cups -coffee, black, no-nonsense- closer to him before adding liberally sugar and milk to his own coffee.

“Why do you even order coffee when you only maim it?”

“I do like coffee, just not all black and bitter,” Harry chirped and grinned. Snape pulled a face.

“Do yourself a favour and dim this disgusting happiness or I´m forced to take house points. It is entirely too early to be this cheery.”

Harry fell silent until Snape had emptied his second cup of coffee. “Won´t you ask me how I feel today?”

Snape arched one eyebrow then nodded. “Very well, how are you today, Harry?”

Harry grinned. “Amazing. I haven´t felt this good in weeks. I think not even Malfoy can bother me today.” Snape seemed to study him for ages before the tiniest smile stretched his lips.

“I´m glad to see you happy again. Maybe we can stop your reports to me.”

“Stop them?” Harry gazed somewhat horrified at the older man which was funny, actually. Who had ever thought it would come the day Harry would dread not to see Snape regularly. “Can´t we…can´t we keep the curfew report?” Harry chanced a hopeful gaze at Snape, eyes wide and pleading.

“You are welcome to visit me whenever you feel like it.” Snape gave Harry one of his rare honest smiles.

“Thank goodness,” Harry sighed and then said, “What about meals?”

“Do you still need me? I was under the impression that the students lost their interest in hassling you, lately.”

“Most ignore me now,” Harry agreed. “But I like knowing you´re there.”

“Then I will be there.”

The smile that brightened Harry´s face was so wide it hurt his cheeks but he couldn´t stop. Maybe Snape had no idea, but it meant so much to him. For once he wasn´t alone. There was someone to whom he could go whenever he needed someone to talk to or just sit and be silent, someone who listened to him and who embraced him when he needed this kind of reassurance and closeness. Gods, how he loved those moments when Snape opened his arms to allow him to step between. And wasn’t that hilarious. Harry Potter longed for Professor Snape´s embraces. Only that he was so much more to Harry now. At the beginning it had been strange but by now they spoke about well-nigh everything and the time he spent in Snape´s quarters, snuggled up on the soft-worn leather sofa, were the best hours of his day.

“Harry, what I meant to ask you for days now,” Snape started, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant. “What about your friends?”

Harry huffed. “What friends?” He gazed mulishly at Snape but the man stared back impassively, sipping his coffee. “Oh you mean those to whom I owe the public outing? Those who never stood up for me when the others made fun of me? Those who looked away when Seamus and some others beat me up? Those friends who are so fucking in love with each other that they just don´t care about me anymore? Yes? Those friends?” Harry´s voice had gotten louder with each word until he downright shouted at Snape. Chest heaving, he jumped up and before Snape could even point his wand at the door to lock it, Harry was out of the room. 

***

Harry skipped meals, all of them. He had no desire to meet Snape there. He almost skipped classes too, but then decided against it. He’d never hear the end of it and besides, he wouldn’t want to have Snape alert everyone to his absence, maybe disregarding his promise not to tell the other teachers about the Astronomy tower episode. He saw it like that now. It had been an episode, a breakdown, but he was over it, ready to go on and most importantly to live on. But this morning, talking about his ‘friends’? Not cool. Snape knew damn well that Harry had no one beside him, so why rubbing salt into this particular wound?

“Stupid bastard,” Harry grumbled. He was glad Potions wasn’t on today’s schedule. He managed to dodge Malfoy a few times and always was close to teachers when someone even was looking too long at him. He wouldn’t give them the opportunity to ridicule him or worse. He’d gotten better at it, maybe thanks to Snape. Some of the man’s callousness seemed to have rubbed off on Harry as well. He stopped this thought when he realised he was sneering. Well…there was no one else he was spending time with lately, it was probably perfectly normal if he acquired some of Snape’s habits.

Harry groaned. Even when he was angry about Snape he found something to thank him for. Damn the man.

At the end of the day, Harry, actually quite hungry but now too ashamed to risk meeting Snape, slammed the door to his new dungeon room shut behind him and flopped face down on his bed. His gloom mood only darkened further when curfew approached and he looked wistfully in the direction of Snape’s quarters. He was such an idiot. Of course, Snape wondered what had happened to Ron and Hermione. Harry would have asked too had he been him. But of course, Harry had taken it personal and snapped at Snape as if it were his fault his friends had chosen the easier way. They’d been at his side on so many occasions, maybe they´d grown tired of him and his never-ending problems, always the centre of attention. Being friends with him certainly wasn’t easy but being left alone like this…

Harry pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to push back the tears springing forth, unbidden and unwanted.

He started at a sharp knock at his door. He turned around and ignored it. Only that the person on the other side couldn’t be ignored. It knocked again and once again and then the door flew open under the force of a spell.

“Potter!” Snape snapped and Harry swallowed. He’d known he’d buggered this up too, but seeing Snape here and his anger directed at Harry, proving he’d been right, was more than Harry could stand. He turned his head away quickly, face screwed up in a desperate attempt not to cry.

“Are you all right?” Snape asked when Harry kept quiet and moved closer. “You disappeared and when you didn’t come before curfew, I was worried you’d hurt yourself.”

Harry’s shoulders quivered but he swallowed down the sob that rose in his throat. When he was sure he wouldn’t start crying like a baby he turned to Snape, arms tightly crossed over his chest, gaze on the floor.

“I’m fine.”

Snape didn’t answer and Harry, despite himself, looked up. He was met by a deep frown on an otherwise sympathetic face. Snape wasn’t angry? Just worried?

“I’m sorry,” Harry said lowly, once again fighting his tears. “I wanted to come to you. I wanted. But I thought you wouldn’t want me to.”

“Opposed to your friends I possess the maturity to know that people can be temporary in a huff and still remain friends. It will take more than venting your frustration to make me abandon you, Harry.”

“Are we that? Friends?” Harry’s eyes widened enough that he looked rather owlish with his round glasses. Snape smiled softly.

“I’d rather we say I’m your mentor, your guardian maybe.” He gazed at Harry waiting for his approval which came as a small nod.

Harry then stubbed his foot against the floor until he finally gathered enough courage to lift his eyes enough to at least gaze at Snape’s throat. “Would you…I mean, can we…Could you…” He stammered, lifting his arms lightly to indicate what he meant.

“Of course,” Snape said and crossed the little distance between them, catching Harry between his arms. Harry let out a small sigh. He wrapped his arms around Snape, not hesitating the least, holding him tight. His by now so familiar scent tickled Harry’s nose and he buried closer, his whole face pressed in the warm, slightly stiff fabric of Snape’s frockcoat. His glasses rode up his nose, sitting all askew in his face, but he didn’t mind. They stood like this for the longest part of a few minutes until Snape started to move away, gently entangling himself from Harry.

“Don’t. Please. Please don’t go.” Harry whispered and tightened his arms around Snape who only sighed, somewhat defeated.

“Then let us at least settle down.”

Harry stepped away but took hold of Snape’s hand. It lay warm and dry in his, bigger than his own. The long slender fingers twitched in Harry’s hold but didn’t pull away. Instead, Snape allowed Harry to pull him to Harry’s bed which was apart from a single wooden chair the only possibility to sit down in this room.

The moment of sitting and shuffling into a comfortable position was awkward and Harry couldn’t help blushing but when they finally were settled, Snape leaning against the wall and Harry pressed into his side, head on his shoulder, the blush faded. He sighed contently and smiled when Snape’s arm snug around his back, pressing him closer. The turmoil inside him finally dissolved and he felt quite foolish about his behaviour but something of his usual cheek returned as well.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to stay. I can’t let you go.”

“Oh?” Snape asked, devoid of his habitual snide eloquence. Harry grinned and peered up. The man had his head leant against the wall, eyes closed and seemed rather relaxed himself. Even the lines from scowling and frowning and derisive sneering softened. Harry found it extremely hard not to reach up and stroke his fingers over those lines, tracing them to those thin lips. He swallowed involuntarily. He'd never really paid attention to Snape’s looks, despite thinking he’d be ugly and old, which -oh surprise- he wasn’t. Some frequent sun exposure certainly would do him a world of good as would less stress. But he wasn’t ugly. He wasn’t beautiful or even handsome either, but attractive in a very Snape-like, uncommon way. The most attractive parts of the man were certainly his hands and those mesmerising dark eyes with their thick, black lashes, now shadowing his pronounced cheekbones. But the rest, too, wasn’t bad, not even the large, hooked nose.

Harry winced when Snape suddenly opened his eyes, meeting Harry’s curious exploration of the man’s face with a lifted eyebrow. He liked them too, Harry decided, those eyebrows and how they arched up, two sharp bars, constituting so much of Snape’s expression.

“You know you have to let go of me in the end.”

“Do I?” Breathing became suddenly considerably harder under Snape’s unreadable gaze, gentle enough but nothing Harry could decipher. It made something with him, though, something more than having his blood rush faster through his body under forceful beats of his heart. He only realised what he was doing, what he was about to do, when his hand appeared in his field of vision. He snatched it back before he could so something as foolish as touch Snape’s face. He inverted his gaze as well, turning his face into the warmth of Snape’s chest, inhaling deeply. What the hell was he doing?

“I should leave now.” Snape’s voice was neutral but more distanced than it had been in quite some time. Harry tensed.

Well done Harry, he sneered inwardly about himself, still wondering what had gotten into him.

“It is late, try to sleep.” Snape plucked Harry’s arm from his chest and shifted away, moving to stand up.

“Don’t leave me alone,” Harry pleaded, following Snape on his knees to the edge of the mattress, looking up with what he knew was his best puppy-eyed gaze. Amazingly it worked. Snape stopped and regarded Harry with a considering expression.

“What are you asking from me?” He sounded more than suspicious and it finally dawned on Harry how his behaviour could be interpreted and he wished the floor would open and swallow him up.

“Nothing like that,” he assured, sitting back. He hadn’t wanted to insinuate that…that he and Snape. That was, gross, somehow. Yes, he had mused about the man’s physical attributes and yes, he liked his closeness, downright yearning for his embraces but that wasn’t anything…well, romantic or sexual that was just…It just was. Full stop. “I…ughn…” He looked away, saying it out loud was more than awkward especially for someone his age, but Snape, of course, would have none of that. He came back and sat next to Harry, keeping his distance, however. “I feel so alone here,” Harry revealed finally to the bedding and let his hand gesture at the room at large.

“Ah,” Snape said. “But you do understand that I can’t change that, don’t you? That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“As much as letting me sleep in your bed?”

“Yes, just like that,” Snape said but with a smile in his voice. Harry dared to look up again. It really was hard sometimes and frustrating how often he tried to avoid Snape’s gaze.

“A small concession?” Snape asked but went on before Harry could answer, “I’ll stay a little while and you try to sleep, but when you do, I’ll leave.”

Harry’s heart made a sudden leap, summersaulting in his chest, and he nodded, eagerly. Hopefully not too eager, though. He scrambled from the bed and without further ado disappeared into the small, adjoining bathroom, rushing through his night time routine.

When he came back, he started, seeing Snape on his bed without shoes, frockcoat and waistcoat.

“Changed your mind?” he asked, sounding one quarter teasing but three quarters tensed.

Harry shook his head. He wouldn’t let this opportunity slip, who knew when or if it came back.

He climbed into his bed, allowing Snape to pull the blanket over him and tug him in a little. It was somewhat awkward, lying in his bed and Snape sitting next to him.

“Couldn’t you lie down too?”

“Harry,” Snape said, definitely warningly. 

“Yes, all right…not appropriate. I see.” Despite knowing it was true, he felt disappointed, what was a funny feeling, considering the circumstances.

“Eyes shut, no talking,” Snape demanded but his harsh tone was softened tremendously by his hand descending on Harry’s head, patting him. Even if he’d wanted to, Harry couldn’t keep his eyes open especially when Snape’s long fingers started to card through his hair in earnest, scratching deliciously over his scalp. Thank goodness he was no kind of human sized feline or he’d started purring right away. But so he just felt tingles all over his body and leant against Snape’s thigh, breathing his scent, absorbing his warmth while his thoughts became mushy and sluggish and his body deliciously heavy and warm.


	6. Chapter 6

Severus woke with his hand inside his trousers, wrapped around his rock hard cock, seconds from the point of no return. He groaned, thrusting up into his hand and froze. An arm snaked around him, the owner of it followed and pressed himself in Severus´ side. Panic spread in him and frustration. He was so close, so fucking close. He rolled away, facing the wall. He squeezed his throbbing cock hard, willing his hand to let go.

Harry mumbled something incoherent into his neck, his hot breath ghosting over Severus’ skin, making him shiver in the most delicious way while Harry plastered himself against his back, his arm coming more firmly around Severus’ waist. It was too long since someone had been wrapped around him like this and now it was Harry bloody Potter. His student.

Severus groaned again, through clenched teeth this time, trying to muffle the sound in the pillow. There was no way he could stay, he shouldn’t even be here to begin with, there was no way either to delay his climax any longer. Even without attention from his hand, the friction from his trousers would be enough to tip him over the edge.

Despite his burning arousal, or because of it, he was ready to jump up and flee, hadn’t Harry´s breath hitched just then. Severus felt Harry’s hips twitch forward, the young man´s unmistakable arousal pressing into Severus´ backside. That was not fucking fair. It took all of Severus´ willpower not to give in to temptation, not to turn around and grab Harry, shove his hand in his pants and wring the sweetest sounds from his lips while he brought him off. Instead, Severus bit his lips and pumped his own flesh with short, feverish flicks of his wrist, spilling in a ridiculous short amount of time over his hand and inside his underwear. He did not take the time to get his breathing under control before he jumped off the bed, adjusting his sticky trousers and dashing from the room without even looking back.

In the relative safety of his own quarters he slipped to the ground, back against the door, and groaned. What the hell had he done? Harry Potter, the bane of his existence after all, just in a completely other way than before. The stupid boy and his innocent, pleading eyes. Who could not give in to him?

You could, once, a tiny voice in his head reminded him but he shut it up consequently, pushing himself up and went to take a long, cold shower, washing off his sin.

He’d just dressed into new and decidedly less soiled clothes when the fire in the main room flared green and a note swirled into the room, landing gracefully on the coffee table.

“Albus,” Severus said, rolling his eyes. Was it time again for a ‘Harry-talk’?

_Four weeks ago:_

_“What do you think about the rumours?” Albus frowned over the rim of the delicate teacup he held in his hand._

_“What rumours?” Severus placed his own teacup on its saucer, leaning back into his chair and crossed his legs, waiting what the reason for this meeting was._

_“Harry’s sexual orientation.”_

_“Albus, please tell me I am not here to talk about your boy wonder’s predilection for the same sex,” Severus groaned, ready to leave._

_“I’m worried about the students’ reactions. I hear Harry is always alone these days.” Albus indeed looked worried, his bright blue eyes were for once devoid of their kind twinkle._

_“We both know how hard prejudice can be. In this particular case, I probably more than you. But Potter…” Severus inclined his head, thinking about the right words. “It is harder on him because he has to fulfil a certain amount of expectations and being gay is quite certainly none of them. We both know too that the impossible child always comes out head up. Give it a few weeks. Before long the students lose interest in picking on him and there is nothing we can do or should do as long as no one takes it too far.”_

_“My, Severus, did you just express your faith in Harry?” Albus’ smiled knowingly._

_“Don’t mock me, Albus. The brat has an unfailing ability in managing the unthinkable, he will survive the little gossiping about him. There has been worse and knowing him, he probably enjoys the attention.”_

_Three hours later:_

_“I’m afraid I need to take back my assumptions about Potter,” Severus said without preamble while he entered Albus Dumbledore’s office uninvited. The older man looked up from a stack of parchments, eyes narrowed questioningly. “He’s worse than we thought. The students don’t only mock him or talk about him, they…he’s not well, Albus.” Severus knew he should tell Albus about the suicide attempt. It was his obligation, but curiously he felt he couldn´t._

_“What do you suggest?”_

_“I think I can help him. It won’t be easy. Our past is not exactly…well…based on mutual understanding.”_

_“You would let the past rest for him?” Albus arched his eyebrows._

_“Don’t be so shocked. Harry needs someone who understands his situation.”_

_“And you can be this someone?”_

_“Who else would be there?”_

_Severus wondered what the old man was thinking. True, the situation was new to both of them. A few hours earlier Severus would have hexed Albus for only suggesting he could or should help Potter again, but now…things were different now. He had to make sure Harry wouldn’t attempt taking his life again. There were so many things he had no idea of. No one this young should feel the need to end his life. No one should, really._

_“Do whatever you feel is needed, Severus.”_

Now:

Severus watched Dumbledore with dread as he filled two teacups with the steaming hot brew. Dumbledore always had the best and most expensive teas from all over the world and he knew exactly which one Severus favoured so he prepared it for special occasions, usually for conversations Dumbledore knew were not after Severus´ taste. Knowing that, Severus frowned into the cup, the strong flowery flavour reaching his nose.

“Well then, how is Harry fairing these days?” Dumbledore asked, looking as grandfatherly as was possible. Not that it would deceive Severus anymore. He knew behind the mild smile lurked a predator, sharp mind, taking in every nuance of Severus’ reactions and words. He cautioned himself, schooling his expression into gentle sternness.

“Better, but alone.” Severus wondered, not for the first time, what he could reveal of their unusual relationship and what Albus knew already. The guilt for what had happened this morning bubbled still inside him, now erupting forcefully, flooding his every cell. He winced and tried to hide it behind pretending the tea had been too hot for his tongue.

“Please, elaborate.” Dumbledore waved his hand, emphasizing his words. Had he noticed Severus´ reaction he didn´t show it.

“The students lost their interest in the topic, as predicted, but Harry is lonely. There was a quarrel with his friends. Harry offered no reason for me to believe it can be mended, he is hurting but adamant about his stance.”

“And you two? I feel you´re getting along better than expected?”

“We developed an understanding,” Severus conceded. “He started talking freely about his troubles and seeks me out for guidance.” He took a deep breath. He was sure Harry would´ve sought more than just guidance this morning had Severus allowed it. He remembered the feeling of Harry´s arm around him and couldn´t help but wonder how his hands would feel around his prick.

“I am glad you came closer at long last. I always suspected you are related souls,” Albus interrupted Severus´ by no means innocent train of thoughts. “I do hope, however, that you won´t forget your position, Severus. I am well aware that you are in certain ways as lonely as Harry is and he is an attractive young man.” The gaze directed at Severus was piercing, searching, and only years of perfected Occlumency assured Dumbledore wouldn´t see what he shouldn´t.

“Are you insinuating I would begin an inappropriate relationship with a student?” He managed to sound indignant for which he was more grateful than he could express. His insides had liquefied and then frozen into a block of ice.

“My dear Severus, I merely caution you to keep in mind that not even you are immune to temptation.”

The rest of the conversation was light as always but Severus barely registered what they were talking about, the ice inside him had grasped his heart in a cruel fist. Temptation, that was what Harry was for him, pure temptation and he had indulged too much already, himself and the boy.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry woke with a groan and the urgent desire to shove his hand into his tented pyjama bottoms. He´d had the most wonderful dream about strong hands caressing his body and a talented mouth descending to his straining cock.

It was the loss of the solid warmth at his front that had woken him. He noticed blurry movement and then a tall figure leaving in a haste. But all of that became secondary has his cock demanded for his full attention. Only afterwards, sated and sticky but oddly hollow, he returned to the fact that Snape had spent the night in his bed. Obviously. The magical underground window glowed bright and welcoming, announcing that it was well into morning of a new day. No wonder Harry had slept better than he had in weeks, better maybe than he had ever before. He´d spent the whole night snuggled up to another body. He turned around, face pressing into the pillow. It smelled like Snape. Harry rolled around completely, pressed his hips into the mattress and imagined a hard, lean body underneath. He moaned when his body reacted immediately, blood rushing downwards to his hardening cock. He took another deep breath, imagining Snape´s familiar embrace hugging him even closer to his chest and froze, his hips stopping pressed down deep into the mattress. What was he doing there? Getting off thinking about Snape? His hips twitched on their own accord. Not Snape, he thought firmly. He was thinking about a random male body that happened to smell like lemon and tea and pine and liquorice just like Snape.

“Fuck,” Harry moaned, his hips thrusting faster into the mattress. His orgasm crashed into him, leaving him boneless and breathless for minutes.

A long hot shower later Harry felt ready to go and report to Snape, hoping his blush wouldn´t get out of control this morning, he would never live it down should Snape find out that Harry had jerked off thinking about him. Which he actually hadn’t, he corrected himself, scowling. When he reached the man´s quarters, the door was locked and no answer came from inside. He waited for five minutes, then, with a last glance back, turned and headed for the Great Hall. He´d had no food the day before and felt rather like starving.

The Great Hall was full to the brim and Harry staggered to a halt, hovering near the door. His gaze swept automatically over the Head Table, but Snape wasn´t there. Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat, debating to leave and go later or just skip this meal as well, when a presence stopped close behind him.

“Go ahead,” Snape said lowly, brushing past him and sweeping down the length of the hall to sit next to Professor Flitwick.

Harry´s heart soared with relief. He´d come, Snape had come. Quickly as not to draw any more attention on himself, Harry hurried down to the far end of the Gryffindor table. Every now and then he chanced furtive glances at Snape, wondering why the man looked so gloom this morning. The habitual scowl was like carved into his face and even deepened when he gazed in Harry´s direction. As soon as Snape stood to leave, Harry was up and followed him, for once not bothering with the whispers and looks following him out of the hall.

“Uh, Professor?” he called. “Professor Snape?” He hurried after the man who only walked faster after Harry had called him.

Harry reached the dungeons and Snape´s office completely winded, rapping against the door.

For a long moment he feared he´d get no answer but then the door swung open. He quickly stepped inside, just in time it seemed to not get hit in the face by the closing door. Snape sat behind his desk, scribbling furiously on a student´s essay, the poor bloke would certainly not achieve more than ‘a Dreadful’, though that was not why Harry had come down here.

“Snape?” he asked cautiously, finding himself immediately met by blazing eyes.

“Professor Snape, Potter!”

Harry winced, shying away a step or two, but couldn´t help the “ _Mister_ Potter” that slipped from his mouth.

Snape was unexpected fast and stood in front of Harry before he could do more than blink.

“How often do I have to tell you to treat your elders with respect?” he snarled, bending down to Harry. His long nose almost touched Harry´s cheek. And Harry couldn’t think, images from his earlier fantasies paraded through his mind, making breathing decidedly harder and something else as well. He shifted uncomfortably when his trousers seemed to shrink down around his hips. Those thin lips were only centimetres away, he´d only have to stretch to taste them, finding out if they were as sharp and hard as the words that sprang from them. He gulped and felt himself shiver under the intense stare. He would come into hell. Why had his libido decided to come back just then? Weeks of nothing but depression and now when he started to catch up on his teenage hormones and wild fantasies he had to do so right in front of Snape, about Snape of all people.

Harry took a shuddering breath, inhaling Snape´s scent and realised he was leaning closer. He ducked his head, pressing his forehead against Snape´s chest to hide his face and whatever there was to read in his expression. For Snape he´d been always an open book and it wouldn´t do to have him see Harry´s momentary misplaced desire. Winding his arms around Snape´s taller frame was familiar and when after a second of rigid hesitation Snape reciprocated the embrace, Harry exhaled audibly.

“I´m sorry, sir.”

“You are a fool, Potter,” Snape said, sounding much fonder than moments before, but let go of Harry. “Sit down.” He gestured to a chair in front of the desk and retreated to his own.

Harry pouted, knowing he did so and tried to stop it. This embrace had been worlds too short.

“We need to address a delicate matter,” Snape said, looking all the world as if he´d rather be anywhere else.

“Oh?” Harry had a certain feeling he wouldn´t like the topic and only seconds later he was confirmed.

“I am afraid our relationship left a wrong impression on you and I am at fault. I allowed a closeness to build between us that is inarguably too intimate for a student teacher relationship. I am aware that the special circumstances called for a special solution, but you might agree that we should return to more appropriate terrain.”

Snape declaring his undying love for him wouldn´t have been more shocking. Harry had to clear his throat several times before he brought out more than a feeble croak, thankfully Snape did not even sneer at him for it but waited patiently.

“Is that…you know…earlier when I woke up…you left rather hurriedly. Is that why?” Harry felt his ears burn with embarrassment and noticed Snape´s expression shift into a rather strange frown before it smoothed and became unreadable, distanced, again.

“It is perfectly normal for a man to wake up with an erection, Harry, especially for a teenager,” Snape said seriously. “And no, that is not the reason, but that I was there with you to witness it in the first place.”

“Oh,” Harry said, meekly and subdued. “But I can still come to you?”

“I´ll mark and celebrate the day you´ll listen carefully,” Snape sighed and leaned back into his chair, seeming less on edge than moments before. “I said what has transpired between the two of us has to become more appropriate not that you can´t visit me anymore.”

Harry pursed his lips. He didn´t like how that sounded: more appropriate. As if they´d done anything bad. “But does that mean we´ll always only talk?”

“Isn´t that enough?” Snape arched one eyebrow in a way that Harry had learned to interpret as honest curiosity and he wondered about the question. Was it enough for him? And if it wasn´t what would that say about him or about his relationship to Snape?

“I like when you hold me,” he said truthfully. “It is…I just feel good when you do it and when I can smell you. It´s calming.” There was a little smile on Harry´s face but it faded when Snape only frowned, very close to scowling. “So it´s wrong, right? I shouldn´t like it.” Harry bit his lip and looked away, mumbling, “Once a freak always a freak.”

“Oh for crying out loud,” Snape groaned. Harry saw him scrub both hands over his face. He looked unhappy and exasperated, a good lot exasperated. “It´s nothing wrong to like physical contact, but yes, you shouldn´t like it that much from me. It is kind of worrying.”

“Not really surprising, is it? Who else would want to touch me?”

For a moment it looked as if Snape was going to say more but then he shook his head and bent forward, studying Harry who felt increasingly unwell under the attention.

“Is that the only reason?” Snape asked finally. “That there is no one else?”

“Huh?” Harry knew he probably looked as daft as he sounded but he seriously had no idea what Snape wanted to know. But Snape, looking at least as uneasy as Harry felt, didn´t elaborate. “Oh,” Harry said after another few minutes of awkward silence. “Are you asking if I have feelings for you?”

“Potter,” Snape growled.

“Uh, well…you know that´s awkward.” Harry giggled and it was really hard to stop it because his whole body felt like laughing hysterically.

“Have you?”

“No.” Which was the truth, he hadn´t any romantic feelings for Snape. He could imagine developing those feelings, however. It sent chills down his spine. That was a frightening thought. He was still grabbling with the rather gobsmacking revelation that he liked Snape but realising that it could become even more was...whatever it was, maybe some distance wouldn´t be too wrong.

“Good. I guess I´ll see you this evening.”


	8. Chapter 8

Harry sat on the sofa in Snape´s rooms while the man was behind his desk, grading a never dwindling amount of essays and tests. He still came here every evening but he enjoyed it far less than he had before and the reason for it was glaring blatantly at Harry. There was a sudden distance between them and Harry disliked it dearly. Where before Snape had sat next to him and Harry had inevitable ended up in the man´s arms they now sat only together, drank tea and talked. Not that Harry disliked the talking, that wasn´t it. He liked talking to Snape well enough and it often helped untangle his labyrinthine thoughts and emotions but it left him missing. Missing the closeness he´d gotten before. But Snape wouldn´t as much as touch his hands, not even by chance.

“Don´t you have any homework?” Snape´s voice sounded through the room, irritated as well, and jerked Harry from his darkening thoughts.

He was done with it except an essay for History of Magic which to write Harry couldn´t bring himself to right now and wouldn’t most likely until it was almost too late. He´d become better in school though and he was actually always up to date with his homework. A small side effect from less distraction and more one-on-one explanations from Snape. Even Potions wasn´t that bad these days though he would never excel in it nor would it become his favourite subject.

Harry shook his head and gazed at Snape, quite longingly, he knew he did and it was as embarrassing as it was definitely necessary. If Snape would just notice how much Harry missed their other evening routine maybe he would give in.

“I´m done here in a minute, why don´t you make tea in the meanwhile?” Snape returned his attention to the parchment in front of him, groaning lowly while his eyes scanned the text and his quill scratched furiously. Harry watched him a moment longer but then hurried to make tea.

***

The infuriating boy was watching him again. Severus could feel his stare boring into his head. It was annoying and distracting.

“Don´t you have any homework?” he snarled, straining to sound less irritated than he was. Harry blinked at him with these big, sad eyes from behind his hideous glasses. Severus got assaulted by this gaze regularly now and he felt his determination slip away with each passing day. Harry looked lost and depressed and Severus had what the boy so obviously wanted and needed but he couldn´t give him that, could he? But how should he deny Harry any longer without risking he´d slip back into thoughts about killing himself? He´d promised to be there for him and always hold him when he needed it. He´d encouraged him to ask him for it and then when he had started so, quite regularly, daily to be precise, he´d taken it from him again. “I´m done here in a minute, why don´t you make tea in the meanwhile?” He didn´t wait for Harry´s reaction but bent down over one of the more dreadful essays he´d had the misfortune of reading this evening.

When he looked up next, Harry sat in front of the fire and stared into the flames. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his arms slung around them. Severus barely suppressed a sigh and crouched beside him, gently touching his shoulder. Harry jerked, green eyes snapping around to stare at him wide-eyed.

“Let´s sit on the sofa.” Severus stood up and extended his hand to Harry, offering his help. Harry took the hand and pulled himself up. Different emotions fought for supremacy on his face before his expression settled to silent defeat and he stepped away. “Harry, what´s wrong?” Severus asked, still standing and looking down at Harry who´d curled up into a tiny ball in one corner of the sofa.

“Every time I want something I can´t have it,” he whispered and to Severus´ dismay he saw tears pooling in Harry´s eyes. He took the few steps to crouch down again, in front of Harry this time.

“What is it you want but can´t have?”

“Many things,” Harry said, looking away.

“Like my affection?” Harry´s head snapped around so fast, Severus feared for a second for his neck. The first tears fell over the edge, beading on his lashes before sliding down his cheeks.

“I miss you,” Harry said so lowly Severus almost completely relied on reading it from his lips.

Severus heaved a great sigh and settled on the sofa, close to Harry. He wrapped one arm around the boy and amazingly Harry responded at once, launching sideways and into Severus´ embrace, clinging to him. It seemed not enough for Harry who scurried closer and finally ended up in Severus´ lap, arms wrapped around him and his face buried in his neck.

All the unwanted and scandalising improper thoughts Severus had fought so hard to banish from his mind over the course of the last two weeks returned with a vengeance, making him realise how Harry sat on him. Despite wishing not to, he pushed at Harry, bringing much needed distance between the boy and his crotch.

Harry looked at him again, but said nothing. He stayed where Severus had pushed him to and leant his head against Severus´ chest. Severus took deep, calming breathes, willing his heart to beat less forceful lest Harry would notice.

“You know this is wrong,” Severus said, low and gentle. It was more stating the obvious than anything else and he felt Harry nod against his breastbone.

“But no one knows and it´s not like it´s something forbidden, is it?” Harry peered up, lashes still damp and eyes shiny with tears. Severus found himself unable to keep his hands down and brought one up, stroking hair and tears from Harry´s face. “We´re not doing anything sexual. It´s just…comfort.” The way Harry put his words, twisted them to make what they were doing less inappropriate was rather amazing but it didn´t change the fact that they shouldn´t do it. “You do like it too, don´t you?” Harry inquired. His expression, open and hopeful, did conceal nothing.

“I shouldn´t,” Severus confided and, mostly to avoid Harry´s gaze, pulled him back against his chest, wrapping both his arms around the boy´s thin frame.

They sat in silence. Severus successfully squashed his nagging conscience, at least for the imminent moment. Harry´s weight against him felt good and, like Harry had put it, comforting. It had been a long time he´d had someone to hold before Harry had crashed into his life like this. And Severus found he had missed Harry´s closeness as much as the boy had missed his.

Harry shifted, coming closer again, and Severus brought his hands back down to Harry´s hips to push him away when hot breath and the pressure of warm lips touched the skin of his neck. Severus froze, trying to deny what he knew Harry was doing. Trying to deny the fact how much he liked this soft touch.

“Harry.”

Instead of stopping, Harry nuzzled closer, his lips trailing over sensitive skin, reaching the underside of his jaw. Severus jerked, torn between stopping Harry and pulling him closer. In the end his conscience won and he shoved Harry from his lap, standing quickly and bringing some much needed distance between them.

Harry gazed at him like a deer caught in the headlights, painstakingly obvious afraid of his reaction.

“You should go to bed. It is late.” Severus was more than amazed how even his voice was but Harry flinched anyway.

“Seve…Professor,” Harry whispered, hoarse and croaky. He licked his lips. Severus was aware of all of it and of his almost slip as well. He´d never given him permission to call him by his first name, though, he might be intrigued to hear it from him.

“You want me to dissect on how many levels this is wrong?”

Harry shook his head, standing up. “I don´t know why I…I don´t know.”

Severus watched Harry leave, almost running from Severus´ rooms. It might be true that Harry had no idea what had possessed him, but Severus knew only too well why he had allowed it, even if only for a brief moment.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry stopped going to Snape. He stopped going to meals as well. Actually he stopped going anywhere, hiding in his rooms. They let him, for two days, then there was a knock at his door. There were not many people coming to him so Harry assumed it would be Snape, the last person he wanted to see. He´d behaved like a fool and still had no idea why. He hadn´t thought just reacted to some kind of instinct, if he could call it that. It was no conscious decision, he´d just done it and it had felt wonderful until reality had caught up with him. Snape had looked at him as if he´d be short of biting his head off even though he’d been gentle. He’d not even shouted at him.

“Go away,” he called, turning to press his face into the pillow.

The door opened with a low, creaking whine. “I won´t be spoken to like that, Mister Potter!”

Harry whirled around, coming face to face with his assumingly very angry Head of House if the tightness of her lips was any indicator for it, which, as Harry knew all too well, it was.

“P-P-Professor.” He scrambled to his feet, tugging self-consciously at his rumpled clothes.

“I don´t care what new teenage heartache made you hide here, but you will resume classes immediately or I will extract you from Professor Snape´s care and transfer you into mine.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said.

“Splendid. You have ten minutes to get presentable and into my classroom.” She turned on her heels and strode off the room, revealing Snape lurking in the shadows of the corridor. Harry noticed his gaze, scrutinizing and intense. Whatever he was looking for he obviously found it because he turned and left without as much as a word.

***

“Well, well, well, look who´s there,” Malfoy drawled.

Harry gritted his teeth. He was on his way back to his rooms, ready to hide from life again.

“Why so gloom, Potter?” Draco leant next to Harry´s room, ankles crossed casually, smirking. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Fuck off,” Harry growled. He was not in the mood for this, not today.

“Rude,” Malfoy admonished, pushing himself from the wall. “I was thinking.”

“Must have hurt,” Harry muttered. The words had barely left his lips when all the air was knocked from his lungs. Goyle grinned at him, fist ready to strike again.

“You’re spending an awful lot of time down here,” Malfoy went on as if nothing had happened. “With my Head of House.” One finely sculpted eyebrow lifted. “It is no secret which way he swings which leads to assumptions, you know?”

Harry said nothing, only glared at Malfoy. He was so concentrated on the blond Slytherin that he belatedly noticed that more people were around him, quietly closing in on him.

“Scared, Potter?” Malfoy snickered when he saw Harry´s gaze scurry from one person to the next, paling visibly.

Despite everything Harry lifted his chin, his eyes blazing in defiance. “Got yourself new friends?” he asked before he could stop himself. It was probably not too clever to provoke Malfoy, not when they weren´t alone. Harry was sure he could outdo Malfoy easily but not with about six other people around, no one of them here to defend Harry even though it were not only Slytherins, but students from other houses as well. It was probably no surprise to see Seamus standing aside, watching. Malfoy smirked wider, producing a familiar white candle from between the folds of his robes.

“I see you remember it.” He stroked the wax almost lovingly, pushing it through his lose fist.

Harry gulped. He couldn´t help it. He took a step back and yet another, bumping into someone behind him and was shoved back, close to Malfoy. He touched the candle to Harry´s lips, moving it around them.

“Don´t scream,” he whispered.

Everything went fast from there on, too fast for Harry to register everything. Someone had grabbed him from behind, a big hand closing over his mouth. He felt the chill of the dungeon on his suddenly bare skin and then there were hands, fondling him roughly.

“Incarcerous,” Malfoy whispered into his ear. Thick robes twined around his wrists and ankles, but he couldn´t do much more than shake his head. His protest was muffled by the suffocating hand above his mouth. “Let go of him,” Malfoy demanded.

Harry found himself on the floor the next second, his bound body was unable to hold him upright and the shove hadn´t helped either. Malfoy wouldn´t risk having Harry yell so he added a short ‘Silencio’ at his throat, silencing Harry completely.

The students around him laughed, most of all Malfoy who bent down to Harry.

“You´re pretty enough. A shame being gay is still frowned upon in our world. Not taboo, mind you, but not well-received either.” While speaking, Malfoy traced the candle down Harry´s spine. Harry jerked away. “Don´t make me petrify you.” He grabbed Harry´s cock, jerking hard and fast, determined to provoke a reaction from Harry and chuckled darkly when he got one. “Good boy,” he whispered into Harry´s ear, stroking up and down Harry´s length. “Better you know what will await you once the Dark Lord lays hand on you.”

Had Harry been able he´d have yelled but he couldn´t and trying to get away from Malfoys touch made the ropes cut into his skin. Cursed to be silent Harry almost choked on the screams and sobs that piled inside him, desperate to escape.

“What are you doing there?” The soft-spoken words cracked like a whiplash but sounded like music to Harry´s ears. The students, gathered around Harry, scattered apart and fled in blind panic, down the corridor, away from Professor Snape who stalked towards Harry.

“Harry,” he whispered, kneeling beside him and taking the spells from him. “Have they hurt you?” Snape´s gaze swept over Harry then, seeing no obvious wounds, wrapped him into his heavy robes and picked him up as if he would be weightless. It were only steps to Harry´s room and once inside Snape carried Harry to the bed.

“I´ll be right back.”

Harry barely registered what was happening only that he was put down, left alone briefly and then Snape was back, touching cold glass to his lips.

“Drink and then sleep.”

Harry didn´t question the request, drank down the potion and allowed Snape to push him back into the pillow. He fell asleep even before Snape had pulled the covers over his body completely.


	10. Chapter 10

This time Harry knew immediately where he was when he woke up and also who was resting next to him. There was a dim light, casting long shadows through the room. It was too dim to make out much more except more shadows but it was obviously enough for Snape to read.

“You´re awake.”

Harry sat up, wondering if he really was awake. His head felt fuzzy and heavy, his eyes itched. Out of nowhere Snape took a glass of water, holding it towards Harry who accepted it gratefully.

“You slept the whole day,” Snape explained and Harry realised why he felt so groggy. The light brightened slightly. “How are you?”

“Frazzled. Angry,” he added as an afterthought. He clenched his hands when he thought about why Snape had given him the sleeping potion in the first place.

“I dealt with the students.”

“Good.” Harry set his jaw and swung his legs out of the bed.

“Harry.”

“I took more of your time already than I should. It´s not like the last time. I´m ok.”

“Talk to me.”

Harry turned, staring at Snape who sounded so pleading, so gentle, so fucking caring.

“About what? Malfoy assaulted me, humiliated me, tried to rape me with a candle!” Harry snarled.

Snape slid from the bed, rounding it and stopped right in front of Harry.

They stared at each other, Harry breathed heavily. Snape´s gaze was unreadable but so intense he couldn´t look away. He felt Snape shift closer, there was barely any room left between them and Harry felt his warmth against his own body. This, he realised, was the closest he would ever come to another person.

“Harry.”

“No! That is not even what upsets me,” Harry yelled, suddenly enraged. “I will die at Voldemort´s hand and I will never know love, never know how it is to be kissed, never know how it feels like to have someone want me for who I am. Someone who craves to touch me, who wants to be with me. I´ll know nothing of it.” The last sentence got muffled against Snape´s chest when the man pulled Harry close, strong arms wrapping around him. Harry clawed at his back, trying to hold him close, trying to prolong the contact, gathering as much of it as he could. But Snape pulled away and instead cupped his head, long fingers framing his face, forcing him gently to look up.

***

The first contact of lips was galvanizing and exactly why Severus had never wanted Harry so close. He had known he wouldn´t be able to stop, once he´d started tasting, exploring, memorizing as much as he could of this sweet cavernous wetness. And Harry moaned softly, hands clenched the fabric of his shirt in a death grip on his back. Harry was like a man in the desert, dying from thirst when he finally reached an oasis, drinking in everything Severus was willing to give him and he was willing to give everything.

“I crave you. I want you. I love you,” he breathed against Harry´s lips, not parting completely and was rewarded by a soft whimper and Harry pressing closer.

Severus steered them back to the bed, lowering Harry onto it, crawling above him. Harry was like putty in his hands, arching into every touch, wanting more still, whimpering into every kiss and even more when Severus began kissing down his body. Tracing his jaw, his neck, his collarbone and finally his sternum with open-mouthed kisses, nibbling and sucking at the skin as he went. He felt Harry´s need against his leg, felt his own throb in his restricting trousers and rocked forward, groaning at the pressure, the friction and Harry´s startled yelp.

He had to get rid of his clothing, quick, but Harry wouldn´t let go of him, clutching at everything he could reach, pulling him close in for every millimetre Severus pulled away. 

“Harry,” he said, low, deep, lips scooting over Harry´s jaw. Their hips twitched in a twin motion, bringing them again in closer contact. “Let me undress.”

Harry´s hands fell away immediately. He watched how Severus unbuttoned the first few buttons, pulling his shirt over his head in impatience before shoving his trousers out of the way, returning to Harry. Their skin touched, more skin than ever before. The velvety softness of Harry´s cock pressed against his stomach and Severus moaned. Too long. He hadn´t had this for far too long. And Harry was perfect, his lithe body moulding into his as if he they were made for each other.

“Severus,” Harry breathed, hips rocking rhythmically.

“Oh gods, Harry,” Severus moaned. He hated moving but there was no other way to bring his hand between them, wrapping it around their straining erections. “Say it again.”

Harry blinked, gaze dazed.

“My name. Say it. Say it again.”

“Severus,” Harry whispered, then louder, “Severus.” He said it again and again until his eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a perfect ‘oh’, hot wetness erupting from his body, pulsing over Severus´ hand until he couldn´t hold back his own orgasm any longer, collapsing against Harry, panting and sweating.

“This isn´t a dream, is it?” Harry asked, his voice so scared that Severus looked up, still heavy, probably too heavy, on top of Harry.

“No dream.” He shook his head, smiling when Harry smiled and eventually allowed himself to indulge a little more, what did it matter anyway, now that he´d overstepped all boundaries. He kissed Harry, long and slow and without the burning need from before, trying to convey every ounce of love he felt for this impossible young man.

The bed was empty and cold when Harry woke up and for a horrible moment he was afraid it had been only a dream nevertheless. He stood up, feeling icky and cold. His gaze scurried past the mirror in his little bathroom but the damnable charmed thing giggled unattractively.

“Quite a night, darling, huh?”

Harry glared at his reflection, noticing his wild hair and the string of purple marks, stretching down his throat and over his chest, even to his abdomen. He touched them reverently. It had been no dream. It was real. He´d slept with Severus. A shiver ran down his spine when he remembered details, especially the look in the man´s eyes, wild with lust but gentle at the same time, full of something Harry couldn´t really place.

_“I crave you. I want you. I love you.”_

I love you.

Harry gasped.

He took the quickest shower in the history of showers and wrangled into fresh clothes even before he´d dried himself more than rubbing the towel perfunctorily once over his body. He sprinted out of his room, banging at Snape´s door.

“Severus!” he called and after endless moments of pummelling the unyielding wood in front of him shouted, “Snape, open up!” But there was no reply and the door was locked when he tried the handle. A leaden weight settled in his stomach. He did regret it. Snape regretted what had happened.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Some rational thoughts fought to the jumbled foreground of his mind. How late was it? Maybe Snape simply had gone to a meal. He went back to his rooms, searching for his wristwatch and found out it was morning, not too late for breakfast as well.

“Idiot,” he chastised himself and trudged up to the Great Hall, certain he´d see Severus – he definitely was Severus now – at the Head Table. But he wasn´t. His usual place was empty.

Severus didn´t open throughout the whole day, no matter how often Harry tried, nor did he appear for meals and Harry became restless. Snape wouldn´t hide from him because of their night together, would he? And why would he say the things he´d said? He´d sounded so sincere.

By next morning Harry was certain Snape regretted their night and it made him angry, furious really. He´d finally realised what he felt for the man, why he longed for his closeness and was given this unforgettable night with him only to be rejected, pushed away like an old, unwanted sock? Determined to talk to Snape, thinking about him by his last name was so much easier when he was angry with him, he banged at his door again, getting no answer naturally. But he wouldn´t be fobbed off so easily. He tried different unlocking spells, all of them useless. He hissed curses so sibilant it sounded almost like parseltongue, but it didn´t get him any closer to opening the door. Finally, at the end of his wits and patience, he threw a blasting hex at the lock. The wards repelled the hex, which bounced off and hit Harry in the chest, not injuring him badly but burning a sizable hole into his robes and smashing him into the wall. His head connected with a heavy crack with the wall, knocking him out. When he came to again, his head hurt ferociously. He declared defeat, at least for the moment and returned to his room.

***

_Voldemort looked down at Severus, laughing. The man lay curled on the floor, blood crusted his face and he seemed barely conscious._

_“Severus,” Voldemort hissed. “This is by far the best news you ever came forth with.”_

Harry jerked awake. His body was damp and cold and his scar pulsed, sending stabs of blinding pain through his head. But he scrambled out of his bed, pushing his own unease away. Severus had not abandoned him, he had not rejected him, he had been called and Voldemort knew, he knew about Harry, had tortured the knowledge out of Severus. Three days Harry had thought Severus didn´t want him when he had been kept and tortured all the time until even he cracked, unable to shield his mind any longer. Malfoy had tipped his father off as retaliation for detention and Severus had been called. Had he only woken Harry, he´d been able to help sooner.

Frantically Harry dressed and ran through dark dungeon corridors. He knew exactly where Voldemort was now, had been in the demolished, run down house before, knew how to get there. And there was no question he would go.

The Whomping Willow froze when Harry touched the right place. He slipped through the unmoving branches and into the hole, scurrying ducked low through the tunnel until he reached the trapdoor. He listened, prayed he wasn´t too late and sneaked inside the Shrieking Shack.

The first thing Harry saw was Severus, slumped against the far wall of the room. His eyes widened when he saw Harry.

“No,” he croaked. Harry hurried over but didn´t even made it halfway through the room before a hex stopped him, immobilising him.

“Harry Potter,” Voldemort said. He sounded so sickeningly pleased with himself. “So nice you join us.”

Harry got turned around, forced by invisible hands to look at Voldemort.

“Who had thought the great hope of the Wizarding world would fall for a similar trap twice?” Voldemort seemed highly amused, his hissing laughter filled the room. And Harry felt like the fool he was. Voldemort was right. He´d run into the same trap twice, bound to lose another loved one to his unconsidered, rash behaviour. “But I´m glad you did,” Voldemort continued. “It is about time I get rid of you.” He produced a second wand from his robes, grinning. “Bellatrix was so honoured to lend me her wand, to be the witch whose wand will have killed famous Harry Potter.” Voldemort sighed almost dreamily. “Last words, my boy?”

There was a lot Harry wanted to say, but the tragic was he couldn´t move and all the gall of the world wouldn´t make Voldemort drop dead. So what use was in talking his mind when he couldn´t hex the bastard. In the end he settled for the obvious. “Let me see Severus again.”

“Oh, my heart,” Voldemort gasped, clutching one hand over his chest. But astonishingly he turned Harry around, even pushed him closer across the room, poising him mere steps from Severus. The man had trouble breathing, each breath sounded wet and rattled in his chest, his eyes barely opened as his head lolled around, glancing at Harry from under heavy eye-lids.

Harry dropped to his knees, suddenly released from Voldemort´s spell. Bewildered he turned and saw Voldemort´s smirk. “I´d rather have you fight back.”

It was this little distraction Severus used to cast a curse, barely audible but forceful enough to slam Voldemort into the wall across the room. Wood and debris raining down on him, dust fogging the air. Harry crawled to Severus who lay pale and unmoving on the floor. The rattling noises of his breathing had stopped.

“NO!” Harry wailed, clutching Severus´ limp hand. “NOOOOOOO!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, whirling around. “AVADA KEDAVRA!” The green light shot from his wand. There was noise in his head, unbelievable noise, screams and wails and he was not sure if he imagined it or if it was real and when it was real who was making this noise?

Still clutching Severus´ hand in his Harry closed his eyes. Darkness enveloped him while unconsciousness cradled him in calm arms.


	11. Chapter 11

“Harry, are you coming?” Severus called in the direction of the bathroom. He glanced at the clock. They were late. Again. But even though he should be mad with the young man for upending his reputation and making him late every day, he couldn´t. How could he be mad with Harry when he knew how he looked when he just woke up, how he looked when Severus kissed and touched him and especially when he knew how he looked when he was told that Severus loved him, when every minute he spent with him was still not enough.

“Coming,” Harry announced, stepping out of the bathroom. “How do I look?” he asked, turning once around himself. Severus grinned. Amazing how fitting clothes and carefully chosen colours complemented Harry´s light body instead of making him appear habitually underfed. The long, black robes, not by chance similar to those Severus preferred himself, only underlined his exquisite and very grown up appearance.

“Too hot to show you to the world,” he rasped, encircling Harry´s waist with one arm, the other coming up, his hand cupping the back of his head. They kissed, pressed close against each other, too close, until the kiss got out of hand, as usual, and they stood groping and fumbling with buttons and zippers.

***

The festivities, including the ceremonial presentation of the Order of Merlin first grade for their services to the Wizarding Community (in Harry´s words, for giving the snaky bastard a far too easy death), were merry and splendid. It had left Harry wishing to leave within the second he´d set foot into the place of the event. Camera lights flashed and questions were shouted and finally Harry could leave the podium. He watched Severus shake hands with the Minister of Magic, his disgruntled expression amusing Harry.

“Our heroes,” Albus Dumbledore´s voice preceded his approach.

Harry glanced at Severus, who just arrived next to him, and turned wearily. “Headmaster,” he greeted, not smiling.

“On a word,” Dumbledore said and gestured to some great double doors leading outside into a splendid garden, full of blossoming flowers despite the winter and snow. They followed, though reluctant, to find the old wizard looking over the flowery splendour, a deep frown creasing his forehead. “You did not heed my warning, Severus.”

“I did not.”

Harry looked from one man to the other, unsure what they were talking about.

Dumbledore regarded them in turn with his own scrutinizing gaze, taking in the way Harry and Severus stood a little too close and the way Harry looked at the Potions Master.

“You are sixteen, Harry,” he said as if it was news to Harry how old he was. “This is the age of consent, but you are not of age yet which will be only this summer.”

“With all due respect, Professor, but I know how old I am and when I will be of age.” He felt Severus stiffen next to him and had to glance over to realise he was trying very hard to stifle his laughter.

“Of course you do, Harry,” Dumbledore agreed, sourly. “What I mean is, there are rules that forbid intimacy between students and teachers as long as the student is underage.”

“That will be no problem. We were rather discreet until now, weren´t we? I guess we manage a few months longer.” Harry shrugged matter-of-factly. “Would that be all? There is a celebration going on and Severus and I are the guests of honour.” 

“Severus.” Dumbledore sounded short of begging.

“As he said, Albus, we were discreet and we will continue to be discreet but continue we will. You are aware now, act upon it as you wish.”

Harry couldn´t quite wipe the grin from his face at Dumbledore´s gobsmacked expression and followed Severus back inside the noisy and far too busy hall.

***

“We could run away,” Harry said thoughtful. He lay on his front, half on top of Severus, his fingers wandering over the other man´s chest. “Go somewhere where no one knows us and live a quiet life, in a small house with a garden, maybe with an owl-order-only Potions shop.”

“Would you want that?” Severus asked and peered at Harry. He´d often looked at the young man and he´d often had thought the same things, since they had woken in the infirmary, bruised and battered but, miraculously, both alive. Leaving Hogwarts and settle down somewhere else, in warmer weather but not too warm, France maybe. He´d always liked France and he had some acquaintances there as well who could help them settle down properly, besides the French wizard community was far more liberal with same sex relationships.

“I only want to be with you, wherever this is.” Harry smiled, crawling properly on top of Severus, his weight pressing into him.

“I love you,” Severus said, enjoying the shiver it sent through Harry. He would never tire of that response.

“Oh Severus. I love you too. I love you too,” Harry whispered fiercely and it made Severus shiver in return. He would never tire of this as well. It was clear for him. They would go away. They would have a house and whatever Harry wanted and they would be happy, for the rest of their lives. He knew that somehow everything they´d had to endure in their lives had been meant to bring them together in the end. And he wanted this for the rest of his life, this indescribable happiness to have Harry Potter in his arms, have him for himself, his love and humour, his incredible big heart and his silly ideas, all of this young man. His Harry. His love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)  
> Please leave a comment or kudos or drop me a message at: mimmi.ger.pm@gmail.com  
> I´d love to hear your opinion.


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